Isang Gabi
by reveileb maerdyad
Summary: conventional pairings. One night, and it's not what you're thinking...^^;;


_A/N: Popped out of my head on a whim…! Sorry for the rather informal narration (you'll see what I mean if you read), late night blues and scattered thoughts conspiring against me and making me produce this plotless fic. Please read, review, and whatever else it is you do with fics…except, of course, using this in any way that's low and dishonest. Ethics, peeps! _

_Btw, if you were wondering, "Isang Gabi" means "One Night" in Tagalog. This happened two years after Ultimecia, but nothing's changed – meaning, all the relationships are still the same, no developments whatsoever. You may be wondering why nothing's changed after two years, but I'm too lazy to pore over that and change the plot, so let's just leave it incomplete, k? Too much detail is boring. ~^!_

**Disclaimer:** 'Tis hard to write witty disclaimers when you're practically falling off the edge of your seat with exhaustion, so….Squaresoft = Final Fantasy 8 

No part of this fic may be reproduced or altered in any form without prior consent from the author. Anyone who is found to have violated this agreement will have to pay, and will have to suffer the consequences of the author's rather testy wrath. Oh…beware. * nods sagely *

**IsanG GabI**

**To reach a goal, you must first leave your comfort zone.**

Balamb Garden was a very merry place that night – it was the Garden's fourteenth-year anniversary and everyone thought it just right to celebrate. After all, it wasn't everyday a Garden survived to see fourteen years, especially when we take Trabia Garden's state into consideration…right? 

So it came to pass that all and everything seemed to be in a festive mood – from the perfect Balamb evening (warm and just a little chilly – perfect for battered pick-up lines such as _ "Are you cold? Here, let me just put my arms around you to warm you up…"_) to the "hyperness" that emanated from the students and the staff. Even the monsters seemed to be on their best behavior – there were no reports of gruesome accidents in the Training Center and no bloodcurdling screams to be heard in the silence of the night. The quad itself was stunningly designed with navy and yellow streamers; there was good music, good food, and good-looking people. Everyone was busy doing his or her own thing – either by socializing to death or by proving one's dancing prowess to the other. 

The dedicated efforts of the School Festival Committee had evidently paid off. 

However, there was one person in the whole of Garden who proved to be unaffected by all that was happening around him. This guy was leaning lazily on the wall, and he never did once look up from his careful scrutiny of his wineglass, preferring to be by himself than talk to anyone. From a distance, he was a delectable male sight: wavy dark-brown hair, a straight (if not outright, impressively rigid) posture, a tall and lean body. But when one got close enough to study him more fully, one could plainly see the dark scowl that creased the otherwise ruggedly handsome profile, making him look dangerous, especially with that scar that marred his upper face. One could almost see the dark storm cloud hovering above the brown head, and the over-all picture was not a pretty sight. 

Gloomy and depressing. Hmm. _Quite Deadly_.

Ah…well, what can one _expect_ from a Squall Leonhart?

* * *

"Sefie! Just the person I was looking for!" Irvine Kinneas cried, looking immaculate in his SeeD uniform.

"Irvy! Hey," Selphie Tilmitt said, smiling happily back at him.

Irvine looked around for a bit, then cleared his throat. "So Sefie, what're you doing here? Isn't it chilly here in the balcony? Especially when you're all by yourself…you should be out there celebrating the results of your hard work!"

"W-ell, now that you mention it…it _is_ a little cold out here…" she answered, rubbing her arms.

Irvine tsked, and there appeared a concerned look on his face, though his eyes suspiciously sparkled with a mischievous light in the near-darkness. 

Suddenly, his face cleared, as if he were struck by a great idea. His voice was low as he spoke next. "Not to worry, Sefie, I'll just put my arms around you to warm you up, okay…" His voice trailed off, and his arm was already snaking its way up to Selphie's shoulders.

* * *

"Easy, Instructor…hey, _ watch it_…OW!" Seifer Almasy jumped up in pain as a booted leg came crashing painfully down his foot.

A fit of giggles came after his cry, and he looked down to see the woman he was supporting shake her shoulders in hysterical glee. _Damn,_ he thought irritably and sighed. _ The things he did for Quistis Trepe._

Wobbling unsteadily, they finally reached her room and he gently laid her on the bed. He shook his head as Quistis relaxed then almost immediately closed her eyes. Cat's eyes roamed appreciatively over the slender figure sleeping like a baby before him; drunk and insensible, Quistis Trepe was still beautiful. 

Leaning close, he brushed away a loose golden curl. "Sweet dreams, Sleeping Beauty," he said quietly.

Turning around, he was about to leave the room when Quistis' voice called him back.

"Seifer…?" she mumbled.

Sighing, he turned back to look at her. "Yes, Instructor?"

"Aren't you gonna tuck me in?" 

Stifling his sudden urge to laugh, he shook his head at her. "You must be dreaming, Quisty. Seifer Almasy doesn't tuck anyone into bed. Not now, not ever." He paused, then smugly said, "_Comprende?"_

She stared back at him with bewildered, unfocused eyes. "Oh…you're right…maybe I _am_ dreaming…Seifer _never_ calls me Quisty…" She grinned a little. "He doesn't speak Spanish, either," she stage-whispered.

"I do too!" he insisted, feeling a little hurt.

"You do not!"

"Do too!"

Her face took on her "instructor" look, and this time _she _shook her head at _him._ "Well, it seems as if some things just never change, even in dreams." She crossed her arms in a futile attempt to look serious, just as the irritating curl fell back again on her face. "You're having another one of your tantrums again," she told him severely, finger wagging.

At a sudden loss for words, Seifer could feel his face turning several shades of red, each shade darker than the last. 

"Instructor. _ I. Do not. Have. Tantrums_."

She raised her brows at him. "Oh, you do too."

He rolled his eyes upward and raised his hands in mock frustration. He took a deep breath and then… "I do NOT!" he exploded. "Tantrums are for ninnies, for chicken-wusses, for – for _girls_!" 

They stared at each other in astonished silence at Seifer's outburst, neither one giving in, matching each other glare by glare. Slowly though, Quistis' face was becoming really creasy with muffled laughter and her eyes sparkled with repressed humor that seemed to have nothing to do with her state of drunkenness. 

Giving up, Seifer let out a sigh.

A second later, the room was ringing with their laughter, blending in with the other laughing voices outside.

"S-see?! You _do _have t-tantrums!" Quistis crowed in delight, choking out the words. 

Lasting for a few more minutes, their laughter gradually subsided to chuckles: Seifer's face was relaxed and Quistis was wiping tears from her eyes. 

Seifer stood still, studying the disheveled woman in front of him who was right now holding a hand to her stomach like it hurt from so much laughing. He felt his lips quirk into a smile yet again. Trust Quisty to exasperate and amuse him all at the same time.

"Tantrums are for _girls,_" Quistis mimicked. _"Eeew._" She burst out laughing once again. 

"Oh, for --- I _did not_ sound like that," Seifer yelled indignantly. _Or did I?_

Quistis finally got a hold of herself, and she looked up at Seifer with dreamy eyes, arms in her lap - the very picture of innocence. 

"This is the nicest dream I've ever had," she said with quiet sincerity, surprising the hell out of him.

Seifer felt his heart jump wildly around his chest at the words spoken with such _honesty, _they made him want to smile and cry at the same time. _Yay! _His heart was shouting. _Way to go, Seifer!_

Shocked. He was stunned at that sudden embarrassing display of his heart. Seifer Almasy could not, _ would not_, believe that his heart had done just that. Somehow, he knew he wouldn't be surprised if she got him quoting odes and sonnets to her beauty the next time something like this happened. 

But there wasn't going to _be _a next time. He'd make sure of that.

Scowling, he bit out, "Tuck yourself in, Instructor. You'll forget all about this little episode in the morning." That said, he strode out of the room and closed the door firmly behind him.

Leaning against the door, he closed his eyes, fists clenched, disgusted with himself. Now what had _that _been all about?!

* * *

"'Scuse me! Coming through please,_ 'scuse me!_" Zell Dincht was busy weaving his way through the crush of bodies, one hand protectively holding a glass of punch and a juicy, hotdog bun on the other, trying to get to the other end of the dance floor. He squeezed his way between two molded bodies (well, he _could_ have just walked around them 'stead of trying to "un-mold" the glued bods, but I just _love_ to be difficult ^^) and he held his breath as he passed under Edge's upraised arm, only breathing normally again once he was clear of that conceited SeeD's domain. 

When he got to the other side and to relatively some peace and quiet, he was about to raise his arms in a victory gesture when he suddenly remembered the treasure he was holding in his hands. Nothing, and _nothing_, was worth losing his hotdog over (it had happened so many times already), so he tried to calm his exalted nerves by breathing slow, even breaths instead, the way his Grandpa taught him.

_ Whew! I MADE it! Ha!_ he thought with a satisfied smile, thinking over the suffocating sensations he'd felt on that latest journey, and also feeling pretty proud that he'd get to eat a hotdog today, after all. He really felt like he had just conquered an army of sorceresses just then. _I just hope Seifer saw that! I'm not such a chicken-wuss, let's see him go through THAT dancing monstrosity, and then – _

"UM, ZELL??!!"

He practically jumped out of his skin at the shouted words in his ear, and he turned around quite wildly, splashing his punch all over a yet unseen person and dropping his cherished hotdog in the process. Seeing what he had done, he groaned in dismay.

"Aw, man! NOOO!" he moaned, punching the air in front of him. "Grrrrrr!" he exclaimed, crouching down.

"_I – I'm so sorry_…" A quivering female voice told him; reminding him of the person who had caused him to lose his dinner – the same person he had splashed his drink all over. He looked up, intending to blister that person's ears, girl or no girl, but what he saw made him shut his mouth and stop. 

"Oh, it's you," he said weakly, taking in the girl's familiar features: dark eyes and dark hair bound in pigtails. He softened, remembering that time at the Balamb Hotel two years back. Had it been that long ago…?

"Z-Zell, I'm really sorry, I just didn't think you'd hear me if I…didn't shout…" the girl said again in a whisper, unable to look him in the eye. She bent down and started to clean up the mess, but not before Zell noticed her moist eyes and pained expression.

"Hey, you don't have to do that," he told her gently, holding her arm. "The Garden's hired extra help today for this sort of thing, remember?" He tried to sound soothing, but he felt really weird. It wasn't everyday he comforted damsels in distress; he was more used to making punching bags of monsters and practicing his moves. 

The girl allowed herself to be pulled upright by Zell, but still she wasn't speaking to him. Zell sighed, feeling guilty. "Look, I'm er – not mad, okay? It's no big deal," he lied. "And I'm really sorry, too. For the stains, I mean," he explained, motioning to the splotches on the girl's dress. 

She looked up at him then as if she were disbelieving, her thoughts far from the splotches on her dress. "But-But…I know how much you love hotdogs and I…" Her voice broke off, and she gestured at the now limp hotdog at the floor.

Instinctively, Zell felt sorry for the girl and promptly dismissed all lingering regrets over the loss of his dearly loved food. "I meant what I said," and this time he _really _did. "I can always get another one, I guess…if not today, then tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow, but I really have to move fast to actually_ get_ one, you know how our cafeteria is, and…" He stopped, realizing he was only making matters worse with his words that were intended to comfort her instead of making her feel even more guilty. "…But I really don't mind, all that hurrying and running around keeps me in pretty good shape, actually," he finished grandly.

She gazed up at him again, but this time she was smiling. "Thanks."

"No prob!" Zell grinned. "So, what'd you want to talk to me about anyway? The name's …" He frowned, trying to remember, "…Aya, right?"

Aya flushed, pleased that he remembered her name. "Y-Yes."

"Well, Aya, what'd you want to ask me? Shoot!" 

"Um, I…I…I mean, would you…wouldyouliketodancewithme?"

Zell drew back, genuinely surprised. This cute girl wanted to dance with him! He was flattered, that was for sure, but…he didn't know _how to dance._

"Zell?" she prompted, after she had gotten over her mortification of the way she practically sounded like an idiot asking a boy to dance.

"Uh…er…y'see, I don't…what the heck, sure! Why not?" He took her hand, feeling like a nervous wreck but deep down excited, and led her on to the dance floor where a slow song was being played. Aya followed, her dream having finally come true after all those years of wishing for this exact thing to happen, giving no second thought to the really weird way Zell accepted. Well, ask a weird question and get a weird answer, right?

If truth be known, Aya felt like _she _had just conquered an army of sorceresses_ herself_, and Zell felt like he had had his own fill of hotdogs to last him a lifetime.

True love? Looks like it.

* * *

And now we go back to Squall Leonhart, who is unsurprisingly still in the same position we left him with after that short peek at the other Orphanage Gang members' little lovey-dovey scenes. He's still rapturously looking at his poor wineglass as if it held the secrets of the universe, and oh yes, the scowl is still there. 

Now, for some reason, Squall got that strange feeling that someone was looking at him, but he just shrugged it off, hoping that the person would tire of staring at him if he paid no attention. So he went back to his very, er…_fascinating _hobby, but alas, he could still feel that person's gaze minutes later. Disgusted at the person's lack of decency, Squall finally looked up. 

So he did, and blinked at the sudden light. He saw the sky present itself to him, stars that seemed to wink down on him from their heavenly seats. Out of nowhere, he could see a straight line of sparkly white travel its way down heaven; following its descent, he found himself looking straight into the brown eyes of the person who had annoyed him seconds before. Brown eyes that could send him to the moon, and, just as easily, send him crashing back.

Rinoa Heartilly stared back at him; her gaze never wavering, she smiled, and held up her index finger – a gesture, Squall knew, that indicated she was asking for a dance.

Déjà vu. 

Transfixed by the sudden onslaught of memories, Squall was powerless to move. He felt as if his spirit was leaving his body and was floating high up in the air, watching the party like some silent observer. It had felt like this two years ago, when he had first become a SeeD, when he was standing on that exact same wall, wearing that exact same scowl. 

How could just looking at her angelic face do that to him?

He saw a necklace swinging back and forth in front of him, like a clock's pendulum, and he abruptly came crashing back to earth. Focusing his eyes, he realized that Rinoa was already in front of him, and was indeed holding that swinging necklace to his face. 

"You are going to like me…you are going to like me…" Rinoa chanted solemnly, but Squall could see the smile that lurked in her eyes.

Feeling suddenly very tired, Squall shook his head at her and tried to move around her so he could leave. He was doing just that when Rinoa's hand came up to his arm, making him stop.

"Squall? What's wrong?" she asked in a small, worried voice.

"I – " he began, turning around to tell her to leave him alone, but when he got a good look at her face, all the words were trapped in his throat. How could he be rude to her when she looked so trusting? 

He swallowed, intending to just go through with it and break her heart. "I love you."

Huh?

The three spoken words hung in the air between them, and for a minute they just looked at each other, shocked. It was Rinoa who finally broke the silence.

"What did you say, Squall?" she demanded quietly, not even daring to believe.

"I said I love you," he pronounced just as quietly. 

There. He'd said it, what he'd been trying to say for two years now but was too chicken to admit, even to himself. But now – now, he felt freer than he'd ever felt for a very long time. He knew – _accepted_ that he loved her now.

The eyes she turned to him were searching for something."Why are you doing this? Why now, Squall? Just when I've just about given up on you, you turn around and surprise me, saying that you love me?" she asked, bewildered. "I've begun to think that we just _really_ like each other, and that I'm so foolish to think that you might love me too, the same way I love you, because all these years you've never said anything!" She paused, her expression pleading. "Are you…are you serious, or is this all just a game? The Make-A-Fool-Out-Of-Rinoa game? Because if it _ is_…" her voice broke, and she looked down, trying to compose herself. "Because if it is, I'll never forgive you, Squall. You hear that?" Looking up, her eyes bored into his, burning with their own fire, as intense as Squall had ever seen them. "Never."

Squall's chest constricted at her words, and he felt so unworthy of her. What could he, indeed, give to her? She was an angel, so beautiful and so good; he didn't deserve her. But still, if he'd have to do it again, he didn't doubt he'd fall for her again, it was an inevitability. And right now, _ right now_ he was falling in love all over again. 

Putting up both hands, he gently cradled her face. "Rinoa," he said huskily, and he found he couldn't go on. He just looked at her, hoping somehow that what he felt was seen plainly on his face. There were just no words to describe what he felt for her, no words to give her justice.

Tears spilled down Rinoa's eyes, like a river coursing through her cheeks. "Yes. I love you, Squall. You don't have to say anything more."

"Don't cry. Please," he implored desperately, wiping the tears with his fingers. "I won't make you cry anymore. Just – just love me, okay?"

"Okay."

"You're shivering. Are you cold?" he asked, so sweetly unaware of the pick-up line he'd just used.

Biting back a smile, Rinoa just nodded and snuggled deep when he embraced her.

It was at that instance, that perfect moment, that the angel had finally tamed the lion. And, I assure you, it hadn't been an easy task. 

* * * 

The rest of the night went on with the magic, and it was back to business again the following morning. But the events of that one night will remain forever in the memories of the people it had touched, just as it was wished upon on a wishing star by a dark-haired princess with beguiling brown eyes and robes of blue…

* * *

_**fin**_

And here comes the part where useless information is placed by yours truly, if for nothing else but to blab even more incessantly. _(It seems coffee worked all _too _well)_ Read on if you want, or ignore this part altogether. Methinks the latter is the better option.

**"Zell's Girlfriend With A Pigtail"** – I named her Aya after that gorgeous blonde who kicks mitochondria ass from Parasite Eve; who, now that I think about it, doesn't look a thing like her. 

**"Conceited SeeD" ** – I named him Edge after that prince of Eblan of FF IV (or FF II in the U.S.), that guy with the swelling ego and yeah…_conceited_ personality, serves him right for losing to that Rubicant, HA! =)

(Didn't I just say too much detail was boring?! Argh.)

_F/N: So, how'd it go? I'm pretty weak at conclusions, so if you have a better ending, why not mail it to me? I won't change my ending, but I _will_ upload your work as sort of like the "alternative endings" part of this fic. That is, if any of you are interested; I'm sure you'll all have better endings than mine, anyway!_

_Thanks for reading!_


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